#gxtcha

“So, let me get this straight,” Adelaide stated, glancing up from her breakfast to look at her uncle. “They think the victim died from being pushed off the stairs, but you think it was from him being shot out of a cannon?”

     It’s rare for her to have visitors- and she certainly wasn’t expecting any. Otherwise, she would have cleaned up. Her sweater and jeans are covered with wet paint, but her hands are dry- with dry paint. When she allows him in the last thing she expects is a hug, but it is nice. She does like affection, but is way too nervous to just ask someone for a hug.

     Hope he’s ready for paint- because she’s going in for a big hug. Her arms around wrapped around his neck and pressing herself against him. Maybe green paint will match his outfit.

“I fucked up. I fucked up real bad.”

There the teen was, late at night in his own bedroom at his father’s place, pacing back and forth with trembling hands and shaky breaths. The only light is the one coming off his phone on his floor, which he had been eyeing for the last 10 minutes.

He should call. Text. Do something, cause this news was eating away at him and heaven forbid he should continue keeping it to himself. 

“I can’t... I just- I don’t know what the fuck to do!” 

Clay’s back hits the bedroom wall, and he slides down to the carpeted floor, face buried in his hands. The phone is literally right there next to him. One push of the button would be all it took to make the call.

“I should’ve never went to that stupid party with Faith. M-Maybe... maybe if we hadn’t, we wouldn’t have- ARGH!” He curls his hand into a ball, slamming his fist down to the floor and letting out a sharp exhale. This whole mess was his fault: for screwing around with the wrong crowd, for screwing around with alcohol, and for screwing around with his girlfriend. As a result, some force above had punished the two of them with this, like some act of cruel irony.

“I have to tell him, I-I have to. ‘Cause if h-he’s not with me on this, I’ll...” His thought trails off, practically unable to continue his words as he stares at his phone again. With a shaky thumb, he scrolls down to his friend’s name before pressing the call button. 

“A-Apollo, we need to t-talk. I-I have something important I need to tell you.” His voice quivers, and he’s almost tempted to hang up and call it quits. But he swallows his fears and continues. “I-In person. O-On the hill we stargaze on. P-Please.” 

“...T-Thank you. Honestly, thank you. I-I’ll see you there.” Putting the phone down and letting out a sigh, Clay leaned his head back against the wall before running his fingers through his hair. 

“...S-sorry. I got carried away. You must hate me now...” He stammered, face as red as Apollo’s usual outfits.

“ ... honestly, I’m not sure, ”  he says after a moment.  “ Not entirely, anyway. ”

After all, Apollo’s got a point———Klavier has no reason to believe that Apollo’s not okay. Nothing had happened recently that would lead to adverse affects on him, at least not as far as Klavier knew. It would have made more sense for Klavier to just believe him from the get-go, but....

Klavier’s holding his phone to one ear as he lies on the couch, other hand petting the cat that is currently perched on his chest. He almost feels like the stereotypical high school girl talking on the phone with a friend  ( maybe even best friend, dare he say ). It’s not a feeling he’s particularly familiar with——he called with Apollo far more often than he did with any of his other friends, past or present. He’d never been particularly comfortable talking on the phone.

And yet, here he was, more comfortable than he’d felt in quite a while.

It’s his turn to be caught off-guard by Apollo’s comment, and his eyebrows raise slightly, despite knowing that Apollo cannot witness his reaction.